


A New Decade

by Johnismyloveforever64



Category: The Beatles, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-24 19:14:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnismyloveforever64/pseuds/Johnismyloveforever64
Summary: The Beatles ring in the New Year as they start-off the sixties with a small bash in their flat. After the party settles down, the boys sit around and talk about their hopes and dreams for the coming decade.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	A New Decade

John, Paul, George, and Ringo all sat around a cracked glass coffee table. Everyone pretended the crack wasn’t there despite it rubbing up against Ringo’s champagne glass, putting it at a slight tilt. The boys New Years party was winding down. All of the guests left already except for the core four. 

It was John’s idea to have a New Years party. It was his first year living away from home, and he was really excited to finally get to entertain without his aunt Mimi overseeing everything. So, he leapt at the chance to have some friends over for New Years. What had started out as a simple gathering quickly evolved into an elaborate New Years bash. Paul started inviting a bunch of people from the Cavern including the MC and two bouncers. George decided to bring his sister along even though no one asked him to. And Ringo, feeling a bit out of place as the new guy in the group, brought crisps and bean dip. Paul decorated the boys two-bedroom apartment with silver tinsel. He bought champagne and cheap, plastic champagne glasses. John, knowing one bottle of champagne wasn’t going to be enough, bought two bottles of vodka and some wine coolers. 

By 8:15, the flat was packed with 20-something beat poets and rockers. At first, John loved having all those people in his flat. He was excited to mingle and hand out crisps. But by 10:30, he’d about had it and was counting down the minutes till midnight. Paul, sensing his best mate was pulling away, escorted him to the terrace. They stood outside in the brisk late-December air, and held hands while overlooking the bustling street below. 

“Thank you, Paul,” he said softly as the clock inched closer to midnight, “this is precisely what I needed.” He leaned into kiss him, but Paul held a finger up to stop him. 

“Wait till midnight,” he responded. 

John rolled his eyes. “Must we? I mean, I can’t imagine waiting another hour and 11 minutes to kiss you especially with your coif looking all shiny.” He played with little curl that hung down over Paul’s forehead. “You look like a hotter version of Elvis.” He tapped Paul’s lip, “but I suppose we can follow your tradition.”

“Come here you cheeky bastard,” He said pulling John in for a kiss. 

“We can still kiss at midnight right?” John asked. 

“Of course,” Paul responded without hesitation. “I can hardly wait to kiss you again.” 

At midnight, all the couples in the room kissed. John and Paul stood by the fireplace and shared a romantic kiss, their hands intertwined. “It’s our first kiss of the sixties,” Paul announced, suddenly flushed and giddy. 

“And there will be many to follow--starting now,” John continued, leaning into kiss Paul once again. Paul pulled him for a second kiss. “And of course,” John continued, placing a hand on Paul’s cheek and looking into his eyes, “there will be many more firsts to come.”

“Ooh,” Paul responded with a little wink. 

Soon after midnight, guests started to leave. Pretty soon, everyone was gone, and it was just the four boys sitting around the coffee table. As Ringo picked up his glass, it tripped on the crack and spilled over. Paul leapt up to get a paper towel. Ringo and George shared a look. 

“It’s still a nice coffee table,” John said defensively. “Even though it’s secondhand,” John continued, “it’s still so modern. It’s got 60s written all over it.” 

“Hold on,” George had interjected, “It’s not the 60s yet.” 

“Yes it is,” Paul replied as he reentered the room with a big roll of paper towels. He plopped it down on the table. He had to admit, it was modern. 

“Are you not ready for the fifties to be over?” Ringo asked. 

“No, I really enjoyed the fifties,” he replied. “Considering this was the decade we got Elvis, Little Richard, and Chuck Berry, I’m not ready to give it up.”

“Especially since Elvis sucks now,” John grumbled.

“You were just excited for the sixties,” Paul pointed out.

“I am--I just didn’t want to give up the opportunity to shit on post-army Elvis.” 

“Well, since we’re talking about things we got in the fifties, we could talk about the lovely Brigette Bardot.” 

“And Marilyn,” Ringo added. 

“And Ava Gardiner can’t be overlooked,” John added. 

“Does Debbie Renyolds count?” George replied. 

“Sure,” John responded, “she definitely breaks a few hearts. Also Richard Burton. How can we sit here and talk about heartthrobs and not mention Richard Burton.”

“And Tony Curtis for that matter,” Paul replied. 

“God, remember how dull our lives were in 1949,” George grumbled.

“Yeah, because you were six. Of course your life was boring. Now you’ve had sex and done drugs. Voila, your life is more interesting.”

“Well, I can’t see how life can get any better than sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I’m sure the sixties will have something to offer, but it’ll probably just be more sex, drugs, and rock and roll.”

“But what about good sex? Like really, really good sex,” John pointed. “I mean, Paul and I are going to be fucking each other till we’re geezers, but you two get to have all kinds of crazy sex.”

“That’s true,” Ringo and George said at the same time. “Maybe this decade I’ll bang a blonde.” 

“That’s the spirit, Rings,” John replied, clapping him on the shoulder. “The sixties will be all sex.”

“But I’d like to settle down,” George said softly, hoping no one heard. 

Paul cooed. “That’s sweet. George wants a family.”

“I didn’t say anything about kids,” George responded, poking his tongue out like a lizard to emphasize his disgust. 

“Well, I would like to make enough money this decade that I can buy a new car, because my car is a lemon and a half.” 

“I would like to spend the decade listening to your malapropisms,” John murmured, pouring himself another drink.

“Okay, what’s your real wish?”

“It’s not a genie we’re dealing with, Paul. It’s just things we hope for.”

“Okay, what do you hope for?” 

John sighed heavily and thought about it a bit. 

“Like Ringo, I want more money. I would also like to spend as much time with the baby bunny to my left.” He ran his fingers through Paul’s hair and cooed. “And,” he added in a more serious tone, “I would like to one day walk down the street holding your hand.” He squeezed Paul’s hand. “I love you, and I wish I could tell the world.” 

“For now,” Paul responded, “You’ll just have to keep writing me love songs.”

“And I’ll keep addressing you by other names like ‘little girl’ and ‘do’.” Paul laughed and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend. 

“What about you, Paul,” John continued, “What do you hope for in the New Year?” 

Paul thought about it for a minute, and then replied, “I want us to become something.” 

“We are something,” John replied defensively. “We’re the Beatles. That’s something.”

“Yeah, but I want us to go beyond Liverpool, beyond England even.”

“America?” Ringo perked up. 

“Don’t be daft,” John scoffed, “he means Wales. And yeah, we’ll be big in Wales--Scotland too.” 

“And we’ve got the Irish on our side--I think,” George responded. 

“So,” John said softly, “in ten years we’ll check back and see how far we made it--hopefully beyond the North Sea.” 

Paul couldn’t help but smile. 

“Perhaps John’s right,” George said, with a surprising amount of optimism, “maybe the sixties will be good to us.” 

“I think it will,” John replied holding up his glass for a toast. The other three held up their glasses. “To the Beatles?” 

“To the Beatles.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe the 2010s are coming to an end! This fic is obviously inspired by the end of the current decade. I also thought since it's going to be sixty years since 1960 that this was an appropriate anniversary to commemorate.


End file.
